The Fighter
by The-Bawss5
Summary: "Every time you fall its only making your chin strong." Tris Prior is a Muslim girl from Palestine. She lives in Chicago with her four best friends. She meets Four one day, a twenty-three year old man, recovering from a bad breakup. She is determined to follow her religion and not associate with him. He learns about Islam, and becomes intrigued by it. A DIVERGENT MUSLIM LOVE-STORY
1. It's Over

**Hey guys! **

**So I got this really awesome feedback about starting this story. I wanted to make a Muslim Love Story. **

**And, I'm not trying to offend anyone in this story. I swear. **

**This will be a Divergent, Fourtris fanfiction.**

**Make sure that you read the vocab in the beginning. It will be used a lot in the story. **

**DISLCAIMER: I don't own Divergent or the characters. **

**Vocab:**

**Assalamu alaykum- **Peace be upon you. (Said as a greeting) otherwise known as salaam.

**Wa alaykum alsalam- **Peace be upon you too. (A return to the above greeting.)

**Allah- **God

**Inshallah- **God Willing

**Mashallah- **The literal meaning is also "God Willing." But the everyday meaning is "well done" "good on you."

**Subhan allah- **Glorious is God.

**Allahu Akbar- **God is great.

**Alhamdullilah- **Praise be to God, (Allah) or thank god.

**Hijab- **Head scarf that Muslim women wear.

**Halal- **Allowed in Islam.

**Haram- **Prohibited in Islam. A sin.

_**Do not worry. These phrases and words will be explained later on in the story. I hope this helps. PM me if you need any more explanation.**_

_**On to the story!**_

**Tris' POV**

"Medium Cappuccino, no whipped cream!" I called out.

It was the early morning and I was at work. I worked at this really cozy place called "Dauntless." It's a coffee shop, and I love it here.

A blonde haired, brown eyed man came up to the counter. I immediately lowered my gaze. I shouldn't be looking at him.

"That would be me." He said in a deep, raspy voice, a thick German accent lacing his words.

"Here you go, sir." I gave him the cup.

"Thank you ma'am." He said, a smile lifting the corners of his lips.

"No problem. Have a good day." I said, looking up at him.

"You too." He said, walking away.

This morning was particularly slow. I work with my two of my best friends, Christina and Marlene. But they both called in sick today.

I don't live alone. The only reason my parents let me come to the USA is because I had someone to live with. I was born and Britain, and raised in Palestine.

I moved to Chicago when I turned eighteen, two years ago. I lived on my own for a month, but then my long time best friend, Christina, moved from London to here. We have been friends since we were young, so I accepted her with open arms.

She introduced me to Marlene, Shauna, and Lynn.

One by one, they all converted to Islam and became Muslims. _Alhamdullilah._ **(Thank god; praise be to god)**

We live together now, in a cozy, small four bedroom house. But, they do get annoying sometimes, teasing me because of my very slight Arab accent.

Come on, it's really small; you can barely even tell it's there. But, we've been best friends for two years now, so unfortunately they pick up on everything.

I heard the bell at the door jingle. I looked to the door, and a young man stepped inside. He seemed to be my age, maybe a bit older.

He came up to the counter, and looked me in the eye. They were a peculiar shade of blue. I lowered my gaze; I shouldn't be looking at guys.

But, Max, the manager of this store made sure that I made eye-contact with every costumer. I finally got this job, and I've been used to lowering my gaze my entire life.

"I would like to have two medium coffees, half n half, with sugar please."

"Ok! Anything else?" I asked him.

"Oh yeah, a pumpkin muffin."

"Sure thing."

"Thank you!" He was a polite costumer, I liked that.

"Name please?"

"Four."

Four? That's interesting.

"Ok, Four. Your order will be ready shortly. To go?"

"Umm. No."

"Ok." I smiled warmly at him. He returned the smile.

I turned around, ready to make his cappuccinos. But, being the extremely clumsy person I am, I tripped over my maxi skirt.

Christina, Marlene and I negotiated with Max about our dress code. We were supposed to show up wearing black pants, and a green t-shirt.

The pants were too tight, and so was the shirt. It wasn't modest enough for us. So, he agreed to us wearing black maxi skirts, and a cardigan over the green t-shirt.I felt way better in these clothes.

I heard Four chuckle at my failed attempts at trying to _walk. _That's embarrassing. I regained my balance, and continued walking like nothing just happened.

I made his coffees, and got his muffin ready.

"Four!" I called out.

He came up to the counter, retrieving his items.

"Thank you." He said.

"No problem. Have a nice day."

"You too…. Tris."

That made me feel extremely awkward. My name tag is located at my chest area, and he was looking there….

The bell at the door jingled again, and a tall, curvy girl walked in this time. She had bright blue eyes and long brown hair. **(Imagine Miranda Kerr)**

She looked around the café and her eyes settled on Four. She walked over to him and touched his arm, making him turn around. A warm smile spread on his lips. She didn't return the favor.

"We need to talk." I heard her say.

"Ok." He said, uneasily.

They walked over to the seats, sitting side by side.

She whispered something to him, and his eyes went wide.

"No way!" He whisper-yelled.

"Sorry, Four."

"Why?" He asked.

She talked in a low voice so I couldn't hear what she was saying. I wasn't supposed to be eavesdropping anyway.

"Edward, I'm going to the bathroom quickly. I'll be right back." I told Edward, my coworker. He just nodded at me.

I ducked into the employee bathroom swiftly, looking in the mirror. I don't wear makeup. It's haram. **(Prohibited) **

I looked at my hijab, and noticed that it needs a bit of fixing. I took all the pins out, and started to refold it, so I could wrap it around my head. **(Check my profile for her hijab style) **

**Four's POV**

_Meet me at Dauntless at nine. We need to talk- Lauren_

_Ok, see ya there. Love you xx- Four_

I didn't get a reply from my girlfriend, Lauren. We've been together since junior year, so about five years now.

I looked at my watch and saw that it was eight thirty. I should seriously get out of bed.

I rolled out of my warm, cozy bed and walked to the bathroom. I quickly showered, and changed. I put on my black basketball shorts, a Nike t-shirt, and finally pulling on my Nike high-tops.

I walked out of the house that I shared with my friends, Zeke, Uriah, Will, and Eric. This is our first year out of college. Will went back to complete his Master's degree, while the rest of us decided to take a year off from school. But, we all have jobs. We have relatively good pay, so we are well off.

I walked to the cafe since I didn't get to go on my morning jog because I slept in. I opened the door, and the bell made a little jingling sound. I walked over to the counter to make my order.

The cashier was a girl; she looked a bit younger than me. And I can most definitely say that she was drop-dead gorgeous.

She was covering herself though. Her hair was covered, and so were her legs and arms. How could she wear clothing like that in this scorching heat? I could easily tell that she was a Muslim.

Most girls would be wearing shorty shorts, and tank-tops right now, if not less.

I quickly made my order. She turned away to make my cappuccinos and she tripped over her skirt. I couldn't help but laugh out loud at that. She just got up and continued walking as if this was a normal thing.

I retrieved my food and drinks, walking over to a vacant table.

I heard the door bell jingle, I looked up and Lauren walked into the store.

A small hand wrapped around my arm, I immediately knew that it was Lauren. A smile spread on my lips, but she didn't return the favor.

"We need to talk." She told me.

"Ok…" I said, uneasily.

I walked her over to the chair, holding her hand. She pulled away from me. Why would she do that?

She put her head in her hands.

"Four. I can't do this anymore."

"Do what?" I asked, genuinely unsure of what she was talking about.

"Do this. Do you. Do _us."_

My heart just broke in a million pieces. I actually thought that Lauren was the one for me. I was planning on marrying her once we were ready. But she's breaking it off? Why?

"No way!" I whisper yelled.

"Sorry, Four." She mumbled her head still in her hands.

"Why?" I asked her, my voice soft and shaky.

"Four, we've been together for five years now. You still haven't given in to me. A woman has needs, ok? I have needs. And apparently you can't fulfill them. I'm sorry."

"Are you serious? Are you seriously breaking up with me over something like _sex?_"

"Sorry, but yeah. I have needs."

"Lauren, when we first started dating, I made it clear to you that I was going to wait until marriage. You were completely ok with that. What happened now?"

"I don't know. I just finally found out how good it feels… Oh, crap."

"You cheated on me? Are you kidding me? I love you Lauren. Actually, I _loved _you. Take your coffee and muffin and just leave. I can't believe I wasted five years of my life on you. Go. Just go."

She looked at me regretfully.

"Sorry." She whispered, picking up her coffee and exiting the café.

"You forgot the muffin." I called after her.

She just shook her head at me.

I can't believe it.

**Tris' POV**

"Are you serious? Are you seriously breaking up with me over something like _sex?" _I heard Four, ask her.

"Sorry, but yeah. I have needs."

"Lauren, when we first started dating, I made it clear to you that I was going to wait until marriage. You were completely ok with that. What happened now?" He asked her.

Their voices were rising.

"I don't know. I just finally found out how good it feels…. Oh, crap."

"You cheated on me? Are you kidding me? I love you Lauren. Actually, I _loved _you. Take your coffee and muffin and just leave. I can't believe I wasted five years of my life on you. Go. Just go." He yelled.

She looked regretful and guilty. She looked at him one more time before picking up her drink and exiting the café.

"You forgot you muffin!" He called after her, but she didn't acknowledge anything.

He sighed, sitting back down in his seat. I honestly feel bad for him. He was doing the right thing by waiting until marriage.

That is why I don't get involved in guys. Well, actually, I don't get involved with guys because it is haram, and I am not going to commit one of the biggest sins in Islam, adultery.

I looked over to him, his body hunched over his head in his hands.

The door bell jingled and a man walked in. I immediately knew that he was trouble.

**Hey guys! **

**Or should I say Assalamu alaykum. Let's see who can respond to me.**

**I'm sorry if this chapter was really slow. But, there will be some drama in the next chapter. Can we get to like five reviews please? **

**Test:**

**How do you respond to the phrase Assalamu Alaykum? **

**Try not to look at the top of this page. See if you can remember it. **

**Follow me on google+, my name is **_**Canon Twelve. **_

**I will be holding contests and such on my page. **


	2. Trouble

_**Assalamu Alaykum**_**! What's up? I got 17 awesome reviews (except for 1) about this story. And you were all correct, the response to **_**Assalamu Alaykum **_**is **_**Wa alaykum Alsalam.**_

**BTW I will have all of the outfits on my Polyvore. It's **_**subzeromk**_**. I really can't put in any links unfortunately. So either you just go to my Polyvore and try to find it, or I will be posting the links on Google+ and you'll have to see it from there. **

**There were a bunch of questions asked in the reviews, so I will answer those later on. ;)**

**Tris' POV**

_The door bell jingled and a man walked in. I immediately knew that he was trouble._

I tried my best to seem hospitable. I gave him a warm smile, which he didn't return.

"Umm, can I have another person take my order please? I don't want you're _filthy terrorist_ hands to touch my food." He said.

I was extremely offended. He has absolutely no right to say that. I am not a terrorist, nor am I filthy.

"No can do. Sorry…." I said.

"Peter." He filled in for me. "Listen here, _bitch. _I said that I don't want you to make my coffee, go get some other employee to serve me."

"I'm sorry, but it's not going to happen. Either you order, or you leave." I said calmly.

His green eyes flared in anger. I could care less, this is my job, and he's going to have deal with a Muslim woman taking his order.

"Listen here, _slut, _either you get someone else to serve me, or something bad _will _happen." He said in a low, menacing voice.

I shrugged, and looked around. I wasn't going to back down to this guy. By now, people were looking at us.

"Sir, you are disrupting the costumers. You need to leave." I calmly said.

A palm connected with my cheek, and his rough hand grabbed at my hijab, pulling it down.

I yelped, trying to bring my hijab back up. His hold on my head was too hard, I couldn't get away from him.,

"What did I tell you, bitch? Get someone else to take my order! I am not letting a Muslim touch my food." He roared.

"What the hell?" I heard an unfamiliar voice.

"Get off her!" The person yelled.

I could tell that it was a guy based on his deep voice.

"Who do you think you are?" Peter asked.

He then turned around.

"Hi, Four." He said.

"Get your hands off her, right now." Four demanded.

"Who do you think you are? Defending a _Muslim _girl? Do you have no mind? You know what she's done." He spat.

"Yes, I am defending her. She's just doing her job. She's done absolutely nothing wrong." He said as he tried to pry Peter off of me.

"Yeah, have you forgotten who killed your grandfather and your uncle in the attacks of 9/11?" He asked.

I gasped.

"No, I didn't forget. But, it was definitely not her."

"Why so upset, Four? Lauren finally ditched you? Good, she's way too good for you. I don't know how you didn't have sex with her, she's great. What guy wouldn't pounce on that? Oh yeah, the virgin." Peter taunted.

"Shut up, Peter. You have nothing to do with my sex life. And let go of her right now. " Four roared.

"Nope. I don't think you can do anything about this." Peter said as he delivered a slap to my cheek again, and a punch to my stomach.

I groaned, clutching my stomach. He kept hitting me until Four delivered a good punch to his nose, followed by a kick to his shin.

Peter let go of me, clutching his nose.

I fell to the ground, groaning as my stomach and head hit the floor.

"Get out and never come back." I faintly heard Four yell.

"I'll get you, bitch." Peter yelled.

The edge of my vision started to become black, as I slowly faded into unconsciousness. I heard people yell things, but I couldn't decipher a single word being said.

**Four's POV**

I can't believe Lauren broke up with me over sex. I was sipping my coffee, thinking over things. I wasted five years of my life on someone I thought I loved.

There was some commotion at the counter, between and employee and a costumer.

"Umm, can I have another person take my order please? I don't want you're _filthy terrorist_ hands to touch my food." I heard him say.

Filthy terrorist? Just because she's a Muslim doesn't make her a terrorist. I actually have respect for her. She isn't afraid to come out in public wearing a head-scarf and covering herself, even though the image of 9/11 is still fresh in some people's minds.

She stood up for herself, saying that she can't do anything about it. He pressed on, saying that he wants another employee to take his order. She calmly asked him to leave. He called her a slut, telling her to get someone else to take her order or else something bad will happen. Why am I not doing anything yet?

I decided that it was enough, he needed to leave. No one was standing up for her, so I was going to. I got up, hearing skin hit skin. No doubt that he just hit her. I whipped around looking to where the commotion was.

The guy, who I recognized was Peter, was holding her up by her scarf. That's just wrong. First he insults her, then he insults her religion, he's invading her personal space, and he's uncovering her. All I know that the Muslim women cover up and hate to be uncovered in public or in front of non-mihrams. Whatever that is. I don't have much knowledge about Islam.

"What did I tell you, bitch? Get someone else to take my order! I am not letting a Muslim touch my food." Peter roared.

"What the hell! Get off her!" I exclaimed, startling both Peter and the girl.

What was her name? Trish, Trisha? No, it was Tris.

"Who do you think you are?" Peter asked, not knowing that it was me.

He turned around, his evil green eyes looking into mine.

"Hi, Four." He said in a sickly fake sweet voice.

"Get your hands off her, right now." I demanded in a rough voice.

"Who do you think you are? Defending a _Muslim _girl? Do you have no mind? You know what she's done." He spat.

Who does _he think_ he is abusing her like this. She's just practicing her religion.

"Yes, I am defending her. She's just doing her job. She's done absolutely nothing wrong." I said as I tried to pry Peter off of her.

I couldn't do anything though. His grip on her was crazy, I couldn't get him to let go of her.

"Yeah, have you forgotten who killed your grandfather and your uncle in the attacks of 9/11?" He reminded me.

I heard Tris gasp. I definitely did not forget what happened on that day. But, that doesn't mean she has anything to do with it.

"No, I didn't forget. But, it was definitely not her." I said.

"Why so upset , Four? Lauren finally ditched you? Good, she's way too good for you. I don't know how you didn't have sex with her, she's great. What guy wouldn't pounce on that? Oh yeah, the virgin." Peter taunted me.

How dare he bring Lauren into this? And, she's great? Is he the person she cheated on me with?

"Shut up, Peter. You have nothing to do with my sex life. And let go of her right now. " I roared.

"Nope. I don't think you can do anything about this." Peter said as he delivered a slap to her cheek again, and a punch to her stomach.

She groaned, clutching her stomach. What am I standing here for, letting him beat her up. He kept hitting her until I delivered a good punch to his nose, followed by a kick to his shin.

Peter let go of her, clutching his nose.

She fell to the ground, groaning and clutching her stomach.

"Get out and never come back." I yelled.

"I'll get you, bitch." Peter yelled back. It wasn't directed to me, but to Tris.

I looked after Peter, making sure that he was gone. He was running to his car, like the coward that he is.

I glanced down, seeing Tris laying on the floor, clutching her stomach with blood trickling out of her mouth. I gasped. How did I let this happen? Her eyes were slowly closing. I needed to do something, fast.

"Edward, please go get your manager." I yelled out to my friend, Edward, who is Tris' co-worker.

He disappeared behind an "EMPLOYEE ONLY" door. He came back out, the manager who I recognized as Max behind him.

I was just about to lift her up.

"Stop!" Max yelled.

I jumped back, startled.

"Don't touch her. She's Muslim and she doesn't let any guys touch her." He said.

Ok then.

He came up to her, lifting her bridal style. Wait. I thought he just said that she doesn't let any guys touch her.

Her petite body being held by Max, he carried her to his car.

"Where are you taking her?" I asked him.

"The local hospital. Thanks for your help, son. But, I'll take it from here. You're a good man for standing up for her. Not many people do that these days, and she's been through enough in her life." He said.

"Can I come with you? I mean, to the hospital?" I blurted out.

"I don't think she would like that very much. She keeps her space from men." He said.

"What about you though?" I couldn't help but feel curious.

"Oh, I'm her uncle. I'm allowed to be close to her." He said as he got into the driver's seat of his truck.

"Thanks again…"

"Four." I filled in for him.

"Thanks Four." He said with a slight wave as he drove off.

I got into my pickup truck unsure of what to do. I really wanted to make sure that she was ok, but Max told me not to follow him to the hospital.

I started the engine of my car, pulling out of the parking lot. I took the highway instead of going home. I knew exactly where I needed to go. I have to think over things. Today has been too much for me.

**Salam! (Another way of saying Assalamu Alaykum) Really sorry that I haven't been able to update in so long. My parents took me and my brothers to a surprise vacation, and I really couldn't do anything. Can we get to 30 reviews? Last time I asked for 5, and I got a whopping 17. And, let's see who remembers. How do you say "Thanks be to god" or "Glory be to god" in Arabic? It's the same word BTW. Try to get it without looking back to chapter 1. First person to get it will get a shout out. **

**Now, to the reviews. **

**To **_**BookWorm (guest) **_**Thank you so much for standing up for me to that guest. I really appreciate it. **

**To **_**Sarah (guest) **_**Yes, I am muslim. I saw some pretty good muslim love stories on wattpad, but I didn't like them that much. So I decided to make a Divergent one since the Divergent fandom is pretty big. My other stories have a lot of readers, and I figured that a lot of people would read this story too. **

**To **_**LoverOfAllBooks (guest) **_**Yes, the words are Arabic. Arabic is the language of the quran (the holy book). And all muslims no these words. No matter what country they are from.**

**To **_**Guest (you know who you are) **_**If you don't like the idea of this story, you don't have to read it. In my summary I clearly wrote DIVERGENT MUSLIM LOVE-STORY. No one is forcing you to read this, and please keep your hate comments to yourself. **


	3. After

**Tris' POV**

I woke up to a bright, blinding light. Where was I? I looked around and saw Christina, Marlene, and Uncle Max sitting on what seemed to be very uncomfortable hospital chairs.

Christina looked at me, and her hazel eyes immediately brightened.

"You're ok_, Alhamdullilah_."

"Yeah, I'm ok, _Alhamdullilah_. When can I get out?" I immediately asked, getting right to the point.

"Your doctor said that you can be discharged today." My uncle Max said.

"Ok." I said, trying to get out of the uncomfortable hospital bed.

I felt dizzy and nauseated.

Dr. Sullivan, the nurse, walked in with a clipboard in her hand.

"Hey, Tris. You shouldn't try standing because you will feel dizzy. You have a severe concussion. So you cannot participate in any physical activity, and you shouldn't work your brain too much. Your stomach will also be bruised since you got some pretty nasty hits there. If you ever feel any pain, you can take your normal pain reliever. " She read.

I nodded and asked if I could get up. She nodded her head, and Christina, Marlene, and Uncle Max helped me out of the bed.

Uncle Max dropped us off at home, and the girls helped me into the house. They claimed that I couldn't walk properly, and they didn't want me to fall and hurt myself again.

Lynn and Shauna rushed to the door, helping me into the house.

"Guys! I can do things without help." I whined.

"You're hurt and we're helping you." Shauna explained as they led me to my room.

"You guys can let me change now. Alone." I said.

They filed out of my room. I took off my work clothes, replacing them with sweatpants, and an oversized T-shirt that I use as pajamas. I took out the pins that I used to secure the hijab and I placed them in my pin-holder. I shook out my hair, combed it, and I put it in a messy ponytail.

I looked at the small digital clock in my room, and noticed that it was time for me to perform one of my five daily prayers, the dusk prayer. I slipped on my salah (prayer) clothes, and I performed my prayer.

I was done after about seven minutes. I walked down the hallway into the den. Someone must have popped popcorn, because the girls were eating. Without me…

I sat on a vacant recliner, looking around the room. Christina pressed play, and the TV illuminated the room with bright lights and such.

"What are we watching?" I asked with my mouth filled with popcorn.

Marlene scolded me for talking while eating and Lynn filled me in on the movies.

"We're having a Disney movie marathon, 'cause you know, we're all suckers for Disney movies." She told me.

Awesome! I looked at the TV and "The Lion King" was already playing.

"I love this movie!" I yelled.

"Me too!" The girls yelled back.

I snuggled deeper into the recliner, a blanket on top of me, as I focused on the TV screen.

"Tris. You gotta wake up." I was prodded awake by none other than Christina.

"Wha? Why?" I asked groggily.

"Well, it's eleven, and you didn't pray _Isha*_ yet." She reminded me.

I got up, and went to make wudu (ablution) and I prayed Isha.

I folded the blanket, and walked to my room. I got into bed, laying my head on a pillow; I was out like a light.

_Little did I know that the events of what happened today would haunt me for months and years to come. _

**Four's POV**

I pulled into our driveway thinking about things, I was still intrigued by Tris. She held her ground to Peter and didn't let him walk over her like she's dirt on the ground. I admired that.

The front door of the house was open, which meant to boys were all awake. I walked in to see Uriah, Zeke, and Will playing Mortal Kombat. The sight was hilarious. They were yelling at each other and pop corn and grapes were being thrown all over the place.

"Hey guys!"

"Yo! Where were ya?" Uriah asked while destroying the buttons on his PS3 controller.

"Out." I said subtly.

"Where?" He pressed on.

"Dauntless." I told him.

"Oh. Where's Lauren? Didn't you go out with her this morning?" Zeke asked.

"We…broke up." I said.

"Why?" Will paused the game, looking up at me.

"I still haven't done the deed with her, and she's fed up with me."

"Dude. You need to grow a pair and just give in." Zeke said, while munching on some chips.

"Zeke, you're a Muslim, which means you aren't doing any of this stuff until you're married, either." I reminded him.

"You, my friend, got that right." He confirmed.

Zeke, Uriah, and Will are all Muslim, born and raised, so I somewhat understand their ways of life since I live with them.

"Dude, hook me up!" I yelled, referring to the Play station.

Uriah handed me my controller and turned it on.

"New game?" Zeke yelled.

"No!" Will and Uriah yelled.

"Let's play FIFA!" I yelled, jumping over the boys on the couch, and taking my seat next to Will.

"Two v. Two." Will ordered, showing off his heavy British Accent.

I paired up with Uriah because he was the best after me.

"Bayern Munich." I ordered.

"No way, dude! Let's play World Cup style. Who's playing today?" Zeke asked.

"Chile and Brazil at 12. And Columbia and Uruguay at 4." I said.

I really wanted Chile to win, mostly because I have this awkward man-crush on Alexis Sanchez. Oh, and because they're an amazing, but under-rated team.

"Alright then, you and Uriah will be Chile, while Zeke and I will be Brazil." Will confirmed.

Let me tell you, it was way harder playing with twp people on a team. You have to work together, and it's hard to tell who's controlling the players at certain times.

Uriah was running down the side line with _Isla, _I was _Alexis Sanchez _waiting in the penalty box.

"Dude cross it. I'm waiting in the box!" I yelled.

"Dude! You've got Thiago Silva on you. And he's like 6 foot while Sanchez is like five foot seven!" He yelled.

I have to agree with him. Sanchez is really short, and Thiago Silva is pretty damn tall.

"Dude! Just trust me!" I yelled.

He crossed the ball into the penalty box. I intercepted it, lifted it up, and kicked it into the goal.

Julio Cesar tried as hard as he could to get a finger on the ball, but it didn't work. The ball shook the net. Uriah and I jumped up.

"GOAL!" I rubbed it in Zeke's face.

"Never doubt the power of Alexis Sanchez." I told Uriah.

We finished the eighteen minute game, Uriah and I beating Zeke and Will three to one.

I walked into the kitchen, grabbing a box of cheez-its from the pantry and I started munching on them.

I grabbed my laptop opening up Google. I typed _Islam _in the search bar, and pressed enter. I clicked the first link, which was _Wikipedia _and I started reading.

I was fascinated by this religion. I clicked a couple more articles because Wiki is a bit hard to understand.

As of now, I'm an Atheist, I really don't believe in god. I kept reading articles and watching videos until it was quarter 'til twelve.

I got up, popped some pop corn, and pulled out some soft drinks from the fridge. I walked to the den with all the food in my arms

I sat on the couch, the boys swarming me. They collected their food and sat down.

I turned on ABC and the game about to start. The guys all murmured something in Arabic before they started to eat.

I was rooting for Chile while everyone else was rooting for Brazil. Party-poopers.

I groaned when David Luiz scored for Brazil while the rest of the boys cheered loudly. When Alexis Sanchez netted the ball, I was the one cheering loudly.

"Never doubt Alexis Sanchez." I exclaimed once again.

This game was tough and dirty; just the way I liked it. It was round of 16 so no second chances. If you lose, you're out.

The ninety minutes were over and the score was still 1-1.

Extra time started. After fifteen minutes The first half was over. During half-time I was on my phone, still reading about Islam. Every sentence that I read fascinates me more and more.

But, reading doesn't fully convince me. I need to meet up with a Muslim person (not my friends) and talk with them about things.

"Guys! Let's get up and pray during the half-time." Zeke said, getting up.

"I need to make wudu." Said Will.

I still don't know what that is. He walked to the bathroom, and came out a minute late with most of his body parts wet.

"Zeke, you're Imam." Uri said.

What's _Imam?_

They laid out two prayer rugs, one for Zeke, and the other for Uriah and Will.

Zeke was standing in the front, with Uriah and Will standing in a line behind him.

I searched up _Islamic Prayer_ and started to read about it. Everything I read was making complete sense. The guys finished praying after about five minutes, and our attention went right back to the TV.

It was still a tie, so the two eams went into penalty shoot-outs. Before long, the boys were cheering because Brazil won, and I was holding my head in frustration.

I spent the rest of the day reading about Islam and watching videos.

**Assalamu Alaykum!**

**For all my muslim readers…**

**Ramadan Mubarak, or Happy Ramadan! This is by far my favorite time of the entire year. Can we get to 40 reviews please? **

**Question of the day: How do you say **_**God is Great? **_**And, what does **_**halal **_**mean? **

**Let's see who can remember. **

**From now until August, chapters will be coming a bit slow because I will be focusing on Ramadan and Inshallah trying to be the best muslimah I can. But, I will still update every now and then. **


	4. Thanks

**PLEASE READ AUTHOR'S NOTE AT THE END. IT INCLUDES IMPORTANT VOCABULARY FOR THIS CHAPTER. **

**Tris' POV**

I woke up to yet another night-mare. Why does Peter hate me so much? What did I ever do to him? Why does he hate me so much?

I looked at the clock in my room, and noticed that it was time for me to get up and pray Fajr, the dawn prayer.

I walked to the bathroom, and made wudu' (ablution). I walked back to my room, and took out my prayer rug. I faced the Qiblah* and started praying. Five minutes later, I took off my prayer clothes and folded up my rug.

I quickly walked around the house, making sure that my best friends all prayed. Marlene was the only one who couldn't since it was her _time of the month._*

I walked back to my room, and got in bed. I tried to sleep but I just couldn't. Memories of what happened yesterday were haunting me. I found my Quran on my bookshelf, and I opened it to chapter 12, Surat Yusuf. I started reading in a low voice, careful not to wake up the others.

After about 25 minutes of me reading, I closed the Quran and placed it on my bookshelf. I laid my head on the pillows, and thought about the beauty of the Quran.

I have to be patient, just as Yusuf's (Joseph) father, Ya'qub (Jacob) was when he lost his son. Of course, I didn't lose a close family member, but what happened yesterday really made me think about my life.

Did I do the right thing by standing up for myself? Should I have just let him have his way?

There's so many questions swirling around in my mind right now, and I don't know the answers to any of them.

I decided to get some sleep. I have a late shift today at Dauntless, but I still like waking up early on normal days.

I called yet another name, and handed the man his coffee. The door jingled, and who I recognized as Four ducked into the café. He walked to the counter, where I was standing.

"Hey." He greeted me warmly.

"Hey." I said back, unsure of what to do.

He looked pretty awkward, but I shouldn't really be talking.

"Umm. Thanks for standing up for me yesterday." I said, scratching the back of my neck nervously.

"No problem. I couldn't just stand there and not do anything. No one should be treated like that, especially because of their beliefs." He explained.

I nodded. "Can I get you anything?" I asked.

"I'll take a black coffee." He said.

"Are you ok? After what happened yesterday?" He asked awkwardly, studying my slightly bruised face.

"Oh-Uh-yeah. I'm fine." I stuttered.

I turned around, making his coffee hurriedly. I gave it to him, and he went to sit down on one of the chairs.

He took out a laptop from his bag, and opened up Google.

I quickly settled my gaze on the woman walking in. I shouldn't be nosy about what Four is doing. He can do what he wants on his laptop, and I shouldn't care about it.

I took the order of the woman, a hazelnut coffee. She turned her nose up at me, as if saying, "I'm much better than you."

She snatched the coffee from my hand, and strutted out of the store, huffing loudly.

After serving a countless number of people, I noticed that it was time for me to lock up. But, there was this one person still in the café. Four. He was still on his laptop, doing who knows what.

I walked up to him, clearing my throat. He looked up at me, his piercing blue eyes staring into my grey ones.

"Four, its midnight, closing time." I said.

"Oh, right. Sorry." He said as he hurriedly packed up his laptop and swung his bag across his chest.

He walked out of the door, me walking out behind him. I locked up, and made my way to my car.

"Tris." His voice made me stop.

I slowly turned around. "Yeah?" I responded.

"Do.. do you know anyone that could teach me… about Islam?" He stuttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Of course." I said completely startled by his question.

Never has anybody asked me about Islam. Is he interested in converting?

I opened the passenger seat to my car, and took out an index card. I knew a couple people that could help him out. I would do it, but I don't want to get close to any guys.

I wrote Uncle Max's and our mosque's shaykh (scholar) numbers on the card. I handed it to him, making sure that our hands didn't touch.

"I actually have a couple books at home if you want them." I offered.

"Really? That would be great!" Excitement bubbled from him.

"I'll have them in my car, and next time you show up at the café I'll give them to you." I said kindly.

He stepped towards me, and by instinct I stepped back. I like to keep my distance from guys. His arms were slightly extended, as if he were going to give me a hug.

He looked confused for a second, before his cheeks tainted pink and realization hit him like a truck.

"Oh. Yeah. Ummm. Sorry. I should go now." He stuttered.

I cracked a smile.

"Bye, Four." I said as I got into my car, not giving him a second look.

He waved before turning to his car.

**Four's POV**

"Four, it's midnight. Closing time." I heard her soft voice.

"Oh….Right… Sorry." I said as I shut my laptop. I spent the afternoon searching Google about Islam. Everything that Muslims do make sense. They pray five times a day to remember their god, Allah, all the time. I somewhat understand why woman cover their bodies in public, too.

I walked out of the door, Tris walking out after me. But, she kept a good five feet between us.

She walked to her car, and I stared after her.

"Tris?" I called after her.

"Yeah?" She responded.

"Do.. do you know anyone that could teach me… about Islam." I stuttered, rubbing the back of my neck, a habit that only comes up when I'm nervous.

"Of course." She answered happily.

She opened the door to her car, and disappeared for a moment. She came back out, an index card in hand. She handed it to me.

I actually have a couple books at home if you want them." She offered kindly.

"Really? That would be great!" I said excitedly.

"I'll have them in my car, and next time you show up at the café I'll give them to you." She said.

I stepped towards her, ready to give her a friendly hug, but she stepped back. I was confused, but then I remembered. My cheeks flushed, and I could've put a tomato to shame.

"Oh. Yeah. Ummm. Sorry. I should go now." I stuttered.

She cracked a smile.

"Bye, Four." She said before she got into her car and turned on the engine.

I waved, and walked to my car.

She truly fascinates me. The way she doesn't really look at me. Her gaze is always on the floor. She's always covered, wearing loose clothing that doesn't cling to her body. No men will ever look at her hungrily.

I sat in my car, smiling. I wonder what books she'll get for me. I hope that they'll help me. I looked at the index card.

162-984-7895 **Max Prior**

162-657-3265 **Hamza Taleb**

I went to sleep that night, thinking of what I would do the next day.

**Sorry for such a crappy ending. I think we should get to 50 reviews. You guys can most definitely do it.**

**Questions:**

**Best Part of the Chapter?**

**Chapter rating out of 10?**

**What can I do to make it better?**

**Lemme explain some things.**

**When you get up and pray, you have to face the **_**qiblah. **_**That is basically north east, and the direction of Mecca.**

**And when a woman gets her period she can't do certain things. For example: She can't pray, fast, and scholars debate on whether or not she can touch a Quran. **


	5. What's it like?

**Tris' POV**

I woke up the next morning already late for work. I quickly got dressed and rushed to my car. Christina and I share a shift, so I usually drive her to the café with me. Slipping into the driver's seat, I felt that I was missing something. The books.

"I'll be right back." I told Chris before darting into the house to find the books.

I ran to my room, and frantically looked through my bookshelf.

_Introduction to Islam, The Lies About Muhammad, _and a copy of the translation of the Quran. I put the books into a plastic grocery bag and ran back outside.

I hopped into the car and started the ten minute ride to the café. Luckily there was no traffic and we got there earlier than expected. I walked in through the backdoor, and put on my apron.

It was the evening, and the bell on top of the door jingled. I smiled when Four walked in. I looked down, avoiding his gaze.

"Hey." He greeted.

"I-I got the books." I stuttered.

"Really? That's great!" He looked like a five year old kid on Eid morning.

I turned around and grabbed the plastic bag. I handed it to him, making sure that our fingers don't touch.

"Take good care of them, please. They're my mother's." I said sadly. I haven't seen her and my family in two years. Sure, I talk to them over Skype and on the phone, but it's not the same as physically being with them.

"Of course." He said.

"Thank you."

"No, thank you. This is the first step," he said "can I have a black coffee?"

"Sure." I said before turning away and getting his cup ready. I handed it to him, once again making sure that our fingers don't come in contact.

"Thanks again." He said before walking off to the lounging area.

I watched him flip open the book, _Introduction to Islam. _He smiled as his eyes skimmed the pages.

**Four's POV**

I opened the book_ Introduction to Islam, _and started reading. I might have sat in the café for about an hour, completely fascinated by their ways of life. It was getting late, and I needed to get home.

I grabbed the books and made my way out of the door after bidding goodbye to Tris. I walked home, and slipped in through the front door.

"Four! Where have you been?" Uriah asked in a Molly Weasley voice, his hands on his hips, before cracking up with the rest of the gang. **(I don't own Harry Potter) **

"The café." I responded. The guys walked into the den, except Zeke. He walked into the kitchen with me.

"What are the books?" He asked.

I handed them to him. His eyes widened as he read the titles.

"Are you serious?" He asked.

I smiled before nodding. "Dude! That's awesome!" He screeched before giving me a man-hug. I patted his back awkwardly before he let go. He ran back to the den, telling the guys the_ great news. _

I walked down to the basement to put the books in my room. As I set them on the bed, the title of one of them caught my attention. _English translation of the Quran. _

Opening it up, I saw that the right side of the page had some Arabic words, and the left held the translation.

_In the name of Allah, the most gracious, most merciful. _

_Say, "He is Allah, [who is] one._

_Allah, the eternal refuge._

_He neither begets nor is born, _

_Nor is there to him any equivalent. _

Who is talking in this, and who is he talking to? Questions were swirling in my brain.

Zeke ran into my room without knocking. I gave him a dirty look.

"Oops. Sorry. So, whatcha doing? " He asked.

I showed him the book.

"Look, Four, you're doing it wrong." He said.

"What? How?" I asked, confused.

"Well, we don't read this from left to right. We read right to left. You opened it the wrong way." He explained.

I nodded and opened the book the other way.

"See, now you're on page 1, not 604." He said.

_In the name of Allah, the most gracious, most merciful. _

_[All praise is [due] to Allah, Lord of the worlds._

_The most gracious, most merciful._

_Master of the day of judgment_

_It is you we worship, and you we ask for help_

_Guide us to the straight path. _

_The path of those upon who you have bestowed favor, not of those who have evoked your anger or of those who are astray. _

"We recite this _surah_ everyday, at least 17 times."

"What's a surah?" I asked.

"It's like a chapter or section of the quran. There are 114 of them. Some are like less than a page, and others go up to 50 pages." He explained.

"Oh, ok, and 17 times a day?" I asked.

"Yup. Up to four times in every single one of the five prayers that we perform. Four, are you serious about this?" He asked.

"Of course." I said.

"Well, I should get you some scholar to help you out, because I'm not one." He said.

"Don't worry about it. I already have a few numbers." I said.

"Oh. Ok."

"Zeke?"

"What?"

"Why do Muslims get so excited when someone converts to Islam?" I asked.

He looked deep in thought before answering. "Wouldn't you get excited when your lost family member returns home?" He asked, looking me in the eyes before walking out of my bedroom.

_When a lost family member returns home? _So, I'm the lost family member, and _if _I convert to Islam, I would be coming home.

I opened my night stand and grabbed the index card the Tris gave me yesterday.

I dialed the first number that I saw, Max Prior.

"Hello?" I heard a deep voice come from the phone.

"Hello. Is this Max Prior?" I asked, suddenly nervous.

"Yes. Who is this?" He asked.

"I'm Four, and I'm interested in Islam. Do you think you can help me at all?" I asked.

"Of course I can. Do you want to like, meet somewhere?" He asked.

"Sure. Umm, how about the Dauntless café on 7th street?" I suggested.

"I can do that. Tomorrow at, how about noon?" He added.

"I'll be there." I said.

"I'll see you later, Four." He said before hanging up.

I smiled before heading upstairs.

"Hey, Four. What's up?" Will asked.

"Nothing really." I said.

"Yeah, right. Zeke told us." He said, a smile overtaking his face.

"Did he now?" I ask nonchalantly.

"Dude, if you want to be a Muslim, you have to be committed. You can't be a Muslim one day, and not be one the other days." He said.

"Thanks, Will. I have a question."

"Shoot."

"What's it like when a person becomes a Muslim."

"The best feeling ever. It's like when your long lost best friend or family member comes back to you." He answered.

His answer was somewhat like Zeke's.

"Now, come one. The highlights of today's games are on." He said excitedly.

I grabbed an apple and asked the guys if they wanted any food.

"We're fasting." They all replied.

Oh yeah. I shouldn't eat in front of them. I put the apple back into the bowl and walked to the den.

We watched the highlights of the Netherlands beating Mexico 2-1, and Costa Rica knocking out Greece in penalty shootouts.

"I really need to get a wife." Zeke said.

"Why?" I asked.

"I don't know how to cook. Like, I can clean and such, but I would probably burn down the house if I tried to cook."

"Yeah. But you get a wife to love her. Not to make her cook for you." Will said.

"I understand that. I would love her, but at the same time she would cook for me. Then, we'll all be happy." He responded.

"Aren't you too young to get married?" I asked.

"Not really. It's actually recommended to get married early in Islam." He said. The rest of the guys nodded.

"Why?" I asked.

"Both the husband and the wife will be able to protect themselves from all of the temptations that surround them, because as you know any boy/girl relationships are prohibited unless you're married or if they are certain family members." Will started as I listened intently. "Getting married at a young age brings out the responsibility and maturity at a much younger age. Both the husband and the wife become more mature and responsible and settle into their roles. Also the benefit of having kids early, makes it easier for the couple to raise them since they themselves will be young and full of energy and will be able to relate to their children more. The couple's parents can also enjoy playing with their grandchildren a lot longer as they would still be in their 40's or 50's."

I was surprised by his answer to be honest. But I was completely legit. All those reasons that he gave me were legit.

I thought about his answer for a moment before abruptly standing up, "I'll make dinner for you guys tonight." I said.

"What're you making?" Uriah asked loudly.

"Pizza." I answered before finding the ingredients and making the pizzas.

**Hey guys! So I'm really sorry that I haven't updated in a bit more than a week and this chapter was terrible. I'm so stressed out. I'm depressed now since the world cup ended yesterday, and as predicted Argentina and Germany faced off in the finals with the German's taking home the cup. I knew it since like, November. I'm really sad that one of my top three favorite players, Alexis Sanchez, left Barcelona and is now on Arsenal. But, Arsenal is my favorite EPL team, so I'm happy for him. I'm blowing up since Messi is getting so much hate for not getting Argentina to win the cup and because he got the golden ball. I mean, the team is 11 players. One player can't hold up the entire team. And he very much does deserve the golden ball, he's worked so hard the world cup and he brought his team to the finals.**

**I also have my wedding coming up soon. August 4****th**** is the day, and I'm planning it with my mom. The guy is one of my brother's best friends (I know awkward.) and I barely even talked to him. I'm fully trusting my parents on who they want me to marry.**

**GOAL: 60 reviews and 3 new followers and favorites. **

**Favorite part of the chapter?**

**Chapter rating out of 10?**

**What can I do to make it better? **

**Do you guys imagine Alexis Sanchez as a good Zeke or Uriah? **


	6. Meeting

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Divergent or any of the characters. **

**Four's POV**

I was frantically looking through my closet to find something to wear. I ended up sleeping in, and I have thirty minutes to be at the café to meet up with Max. I needed to make a good impression, and I had no idea what I should wear.

"Dude, what are you doing?" I tired Zeke-who stayed up all night-walked into my room.

"I'm meeting up with someone, and I don't know what to wear." I said.

"Is it a girl?" He asked.

"No, it's Max Prior." I said.

"Why?" He asked.

"I need to learn more about Islam." I huffed, looking through my closet one more time.

"Wow, you are serious about this." He realized.

"Yeah, I am, and I need to be at the café in half an hour. What do I wear?" I asked frantically.

He put his hand on his chin, stroking his imaginary beard.

"I don't know. I'll get Uriah for ya, he's the fashion expert." Zeke said before winking and walking out of my room.

A few moments later, Uriah walked in.

"Trouble on choosing what to wear?" He asked.

"Yeah."

"Sorry about that, bro. I can't imagine what it would be like to have no sense in fashion." He joked sympathetically.

"Hurry up." I said, not having time for his nonsense.

He walked to my closet, and picked out a greenish blue plaid shirt. He paired it with some khakis, and emerged with my only pair of dress shoes.

"Thanks so much, Rye-Rye." I said teasingly before walking into my bathroom.

"Don't call me that!" He whined as he stomped his foot on the mahogany wood floor.

I took a quick shower, and got dressed.

"What do I do with my hair?" I asked as I walked back into my room.

"I don't know." He said as I ran a hand through my hair. I walked to my mirror and put it in a Sergio Ramos inspired quiff.

"Good?" I asked Uri, turning around.

"Great. Now go, I'm excited for you." He said, lightly pushing me out of my room.

"Why?" I asked.

"Well, this is the first step," He said, "now go! You're late!" He screeched.

"Be back home in time for the games." Zeke hollered from the other room.

Oh yeah, France and Nigeria were playing against each other today, and so were Germany and Algeria.

I slammed the door behind me, as I started the short walk from our house to the café.

"How's it going, Four?" Max asked.

He was the same Max that owned the café, and he's Tris' uncle.

"Great." I answered.

"Can I get you anything to eat?" I asked him politely.

"No thanks, I'm fasting." I decided not to order anything, thinking that it would be rude to eat in front of him while he's fasting.

We took our seats, "So, what do you want to know?" Max asked; He had a slight accent.

I shrugged, quite nervous, "I don't know."

"Don't be so tense. I don't bite. Tell me what you want to know, and I'll do my best to explain things." He said, putting a hand on my shoulder. I smiled, feeling that I could trust this man.

"The basics?" I asked shyly.

"Of course. So, you know the name of the religion, Islam. But what you probably don't know, is what it means. It comes from an Arabic root word meaning 'peace' or 'submission,'" He started, "Our religion teaches that a person can only find peace in his life by submitting to Almighty God, in heart, soul, and deed."

"Your God's name is Allah, right?" I asked.

"Exactly. The same Arabic root word that's used in the word Islam is also used in our universal greeting, 'Assalamu Alaykum' meaning Peace be with you."

"Universal greeting?" I asked.

"Yeah. Anywhere that you go in the world that is how a Muslim will greet you. In the USA, the Middle East, China, Indonesia, Bosnia, India, Nigeria, Germany, Britain, France, literally everywhere." He expanded.

"It's quite interesting actually, since about only twenty percent of Muslims are Arab." I nodded.

"So, I know that Allah is your God, but, like, who is he?" I asked.

"Ok, so Allah is the proper name for Almighty God. But, he has other names that are used to describe his characteristics: the creator, the sustainer, the merciful, the compassionate, and so many more. He has a total of ninety nine names that we know of. As a matter of fact, give me your hand." He ordered, and I did as he wanted.

"There's ninety nine names for Allah, right? This is something that is in all of human beings. On your left palm, the number eight-one is written, and on your right, the number eighteen is written." I looked at my palms and didn't see a thing.

"It's in Arabic though. The number eight is a two-sided triangle, missing the bottom line that connects the two slanted lines." He explained as he traced the eight on my palm. "Next to that triangle is a normal line that looks like a one." He traced the one.

"On your left palm the same numbers are there, except different order. The one comes before the eight." He said, tracing the number eighteen on my palm.

"What significance do these numbers have?" I asked, confused.

"If you add eighteen and eighty-one, you get ninety-nine-"

"And Allah has ninety-nine names." I finished.

"Exactly. Here's another scenario. Our last prophet, Mohammad, died when he was sixty-three. If you subtract eighteen from eighty-one, you get sixty three." He said, looking at me with brown eyes.

"And everyone in the world has this?" I asked.

He showed me his palms, and sure enough the numbers were there. "If I go downtown, and ask random people if I can see their palms, they will have the same print." He confirmed.

"That's amazing." I said in awe.

"So every time we look at our hands, we remember our creator." He concluded.

"Is there anything else you want to know?" He asked.

I looked at my phone, "Can we meet up again. I have to get home." I said.

"Of course. Same place same time tomorrow?" He asked.

I thought about it for a moment, "sure." I said before walking out of the store, and hurrying home to catch the game.

**Tris' POV**

"Tris, Tris, Tris, wake up."

"Go away, Lynn." I grumbled, turning away from her and wrapping a pillow around my head.

"The game is starting in three minutes."

I was up. There was no way I was missing this game. I ran to the bathroom, and washed my face quickly. Staying in my pajamas, I walked down the hallway to the den. I took a seat on a recliner and grabbed the remote.

I opened up ESPN, and the starting lineups were being shown. I didn't doubt that France would knock out Nigeria today, and Germany would knock out Algeria.

I want Germany to win the cup since my favorite players are German, but at the same time, Algeria is the only Muslim team left in the tournament. I felt like a traitor since I wanted the Germans to knock them out.

The game started, and I was watching the screen intently.

Christina walked into the room, "we're going shopping today." She said.

"No, we're not." I responded.

"Yes we are. Eid is coming and we need to buy clothes and gifts." She said.

"Fine, but after the games finish, ok?" I had to come to some sort of agreement.

"Ok. When do they finish?" She asked.

"Around six, it depends. If they go to extra time and penalty shootouts, it'll be a bit longer." I said, eyeing the TV.

"That gives us some time. Iftar* is at around eight-thirty, so we can shop for about two hours. Let's have takeout tonight." She proposed, talking about the new Halal* Chinese Restaurant the recently opened up.

"Awesome. I'll call and make our order, and we'll pick it up after we're done shopping." I said.

-oOo-

I cheered when the final whistle for the Germany vs. Algeria game sounded. Germany ended up beating the Algerians two to one.

"Get up and get dressed." Marlene ordered.

I walked to my room, and went through my closet. I came up with a striped navy and pink maxi skirt, and a dusty pink cardigan. Since it was see-through, I wore a long-sleeved, black, body shirt. The cardigan was big on me, so I buttoned it up. I slipped on my navy sandals. Walking out of the room, I saw Marlene wrapping a hijab around her head. The rest of the girls were ready. I stood in front of the mirror, and wrapped a light pink hijab around my head in my usual style. **(In my profile) **

Christina was wearing a white, flowy shirt that had a bunch of ravens on it, forming a heart. She wore a coral colored cardigan on top of it, with a black maxi skirt. She had a peace sign necklace on, a black hijab, and black sandals.

Marlene was wearing a navy and beige striped maxi dress. She paired it with a light beige cardigan, a navy hijab, and golden sandals. There was a simple heart necklace landing softly on her chest.

Lynn was wearing an American flag tunic, straight legged jeans, and a white cardigan. Her hijab was a blue color, and she had an anchor necklace on her neck, and black converse on her feet.

Shauna was wearing a simple olive green blouse. Since it was see-through and sleeveless, she had a black long-sleeved body shirt underneath. A shell necklace was around her neck, she had a studded olive green infinity scarf as her hijab, and black sandals on her feet.

We walked out of the door after I made our order for Chinese takeout. We took our two cars, and made our way to the mall.

**Ok, Tris' POV was really stupid… **

**Goal: 70-75 reviews, and 2 new followers and favorites.**

**QOTD: What was your favorite part of the chapter, and why? **

**Did you like Four and Max's 'meeting?**

**I posted a link on my profile for the 18+81 thing. Go check that out, it's a really simple visual and you'll be able to understand the concept better. Also, check out my polyvore for outfits. Link is also in my profile. **

**Explanations:**

**In Ramadan, Muslims don't eat from sunrise to sunset. Suhoor is when you eat 'breakfast' before sunrise. When you eat at sunset, it's called Iftar. **

**Now, there is something called Halal food. We have a strict diet. Like we don't eat any sort of pig, and we don't drink alcohol. When it comes to other meats, they have to be slaughtered in a certain way. **

**Umm, if you want more information either PM me or look it up. **


	7. Depressing AN

Hey guys. This will be yet another depressing authors note. BUT PLEASE READ!

It's time that I- we fess up. Yes, we. We're two people writing these stories. Let's use the names Flynn and Ryder.

Flynn is a 14 year old girl, and Ryder is 18 and they're best friends. Flynn and Ryder combined their personalities to make one person when it came to writing fanfictions. Ryder is the one getting married, and she's the one who's going off to college. She's also the main writer of IAOT. Flynn came up with the ideas for all the stories, but Ryder wrote IAOT. Flynn and Ryder came together to write LWP, and Flynn writes The Fighter. Flynn is the soccer obsessed one, while Ryder is just a fan, not exactly obsessed. Ryder handled PM's and our profile.

We felt terrible and couldn't sleep for nights since we felt like we were lying to our great readers. So we decided that the best thing was to come out with the truth. I really hope you forgive us and we understand if you hate us for keeping this big secret from you, and practically lying to you guys.

-Flynn and Ryder.

Ok, now it's just Flynn talking. Ryder is getting married and going off to college. She wants to focus on her education so she's dropping fanfiction. She wanted to drop AIOT completely, but I convinced her not to. That story has over 650 reviews, over 150 favorites and 200 followers. Instead of taking it down completely, I'll take it down August 5th and start reposting. But, don't worry I'll post really quickly so the story will get back on track.

_**But, I need a promise. I need you guys to promise that you will go back and review on the chapters and refollow and refavorite.**_** I know this sounds really selfish. Many fanfic writers write because writing is a passion for them. I don't, soccer is my passion and if I was able to, I would spend every living second training, playing, gaming, and watching. I started writing to just see how good I was at it. I actually wrote the first 10 chapters of AIOT, with some help from Ryder. Right now, the only reason why I still write is because it makes you readers really happy. **

**I'll go back and repost the chapters. Since I want to get to know my readers a bit better, I'll be asking a few random questions. I'll also put a reviewing goal. **

Now, on a happier note. I've decided where I'll be going with my stories. _Is Anybody Out There? _Will have about 50 chapters, so about 25 more to go.

_Love Will Prevail_ is a completely different story. That's the one I have the most plans with. It'll be around 60-75 chapters and there will be a sequel I will throw in a MAJOR plot twist that'll leave everyone (including me) crying.

_The Fighter _will be on the shorter side with about 30 chapters, depending on how fast I make the process.

_**Please guys, in your reviews promise that you'll go back and refavorite, refollow, and review. Basically the only reason I write fanfictions is to make you happy, and if I see that there is no response, I won't write. From now on, I promise that there will be no more secrets or lies. I PROMISE! **_


	8. Half Brothers

**Hey guys! Sorry I haven't updated in forever. Things haven't been the best for me. Sorry if this chapter is really crappy. **

**Four's POV**

"Oh My God!" I heard Uriah scream from the other room.

"What?" Zeke asked.

"Guys. We invited Uncle Max and his family for Iftar. It's already five." He started counting on his fingers, "The house isn't clean, we have no food, and he's our uncle. How could we forget about this?" He screeched.

Is this the same Max that I met up with two days ago?

"This is bad. This is bad. This is bad." Zeke mumbled to himself.

"Start cleaning!" He screamed, running into the den. I decided to help out my friends by cleaning around the house; I'm the one who made part of this mess anyways.

I started loading the dishwasher with unclean dishes.

I finished cleaning the kitchen and our small dining room and walked into a clean den.

"Thanks for the help Four." Zeke hollered, walking into the kitchen.

"Hey! I just cleaned that." I yelled after him.

"You shouldn't have done that. We still have to make food." I groaned.

"What are you gonna make?" I asked him.

My friend looked in thought, "Will! What're we gonna make?" He screamed.

Will came bounding into the kitchen followed by Uriah.

"Alright. Appetizer's will be soup and… dumplings. Then we'll get up and pray Maghrib. By the way, Four, that's one of the five daily mandatory prayers that we pray." He enlightened me, "Then, Shawarma!" He suggested.

"Yeah. It's not too hard to make." Uriah said.

"Alright. I'll make the soup. Uriah, you make the dumplings. Will, when we're done, we'll help you with the Shawarma."

"Wait, we need something cold. Salad!"

"Yes! Four, you make the salad." Uriah ordered as he walked to the freezer and pulled out two packs of frozen dumpling pastry.

I walked to the fridge and pulled out tomatoes, cucumbers, green peppers and lettuce. Uriah let the pastry sit on the counter to thaw out while he started to make the filling. I completely zoned everyone out as I started cutting up the lettuce. I was prone to cutting myself, and I really didn't want that happen today.

**Tris' POV**

"Assalamu Alaykum, Uncle Max." I greeted my uncle the Islamic way over the phone.

"Wa Alaykum Al-Salam. How are you doing, Tris?" He asked me in Arabic.

"Alhmdullilah, how're you doing, uncle?" I asked him back, speaking in the same language.

"Alhamdullilah, I'm good. How's Ramadan treating you?" He asked.

"It's actually not too hard. How 'bout you?" I asked him back.

"Great. Anyways. I'm invited to Zeke, Uriah, and Will's house today for Iftar. You want to come with? They still don't know that you moved to Chicago a couple months ago since all their connections with our family back in Gaza were broken."

"Zeke, Uriah, and Will. As in my half brothers that are two years older than me?" I asked excitedly.

"Yup!"

"Of course. What do you mean, their connections with our family was broken?" I asked, suddenly scared.

"The Israeli government isn't letting any calls to come through." He explained; I was confused.

"Why am I still able to talk to them though?" I asked.

"You are?" He asked.

"Yeah. I call them whenever I can over Skype and on the phone, they always answer." I said.

"I don't know then. I just haven't talked to my brothers and sisters for a couple weeks now." He said sadly.

"How about you come over tomorrow and call them from my phone." I suggested.

"Are you sure?" He asked.

"Of course. You deserve to talk to your family. And if Zeke, Uriah, and Will haven't talked to our parents in a while either, they can come over too." I suggested.

"That'd be great. So, you want to come today? I want to surprise your step-brothers." He said.

"Of course I'll come. Tell them I'll bring desert."

"Great. I'll pick you up at seven thirty, Trissy. Assalamu Alaykum, Tris."

"Wa Alaykum Al Salam, Uncle."

Christina walked into the room.

"What happened?" She asked, sitting on my bed.

"Max invited me to go out to dinner with him. Apparently, my step brothers live in the area, and he was invited to their house. Are you guys ok with that?"

"I am ok with it. Go and get reunited with your brothers Tris." She said dramatically.

"What should I wear?" I asked my fashion freak best friend.

"Well, it's Ramadan, and usually you wear a Abaya. Go with that." She said.

My best friend was right. My normal wear usually consisted of a Maxi skirt with a shirt of some sort, or straight legged jeans and a mid thigh length shirt, or a maxi dress with a cardigan or leather/jeans jacket on top.

But, during the month of Ramadan, I wear a Abaya. Typically, it's a loose black piece of clothing that's long sleeved and reaches my feet. I paired it with my new Freedom Hijab. **(Links in profile)**

I walked into the kitchen and gathered ingredients to make one of my-and my stepbrother's- favorite desert.

**Four's POV**

I was setting the table with spoons, forks, knives, bowls, the soup bowl, the plate of dumplings, dates, and glasses of water when the doorbell rang.

"I got it." Uriah screeched. I heard the door swing open and Uriah gasped.

"Trissy!" He screamed.

I decided to walk to the den and check things out. Uriah was hugging someone tightly. Will and Zeke were running down the hallway, "Trissy? Where?" Zeke asked frantically. Once he saw Uriah hugging someone, he joined in. So did Will.

When they all pulled away, my eyes went wide.

Last time I checked, a Muslim girl _cannot _touch any man other than her brothers, father, uncles, and a few more. Are my best friends and this girl related?

**I called it. This chapter is definitely my worst. It's short and nothing happens. Well, other than us finding out that Tris is related to Uriah, Will, and Zeke. **

**GOAL: 85 reviews and 2 new follows OR favorites. **

**QOTD: Your favorite part of the chapter? **

**Oh, for anyone who reads IAOT, Selfdestructin54321 made a Toby one-shot. Go check it out and please review since it's a really great one-shot. The link is in my profile. **


	9. Sorry

**Hey guys. Assalamu Alaykum. I know that this might be a bit depressing and such. This year has proven to be really hard for me. I'm taking all honors classes and my soccer practices have been upped and our games are like 2-3 hours away, every week sometimes twice a week. On top of all of this, this is my final year in memorizing the Quran. This is my third year in the process, and I only have 9 juz' (chapters) left to go. So I'm over two-thirds done.**

**Basically, when I started this story, I thought I would have a lot of time to write it, but I'm thinking of putting it on hold for a little while until things get a bit easier for me. Hopefully, this 'break' won't be too long, probably not more than 2 months. That's not that bad, right?**

**I feel so bad for doing this. I started off ready to show everyone about the real beauty of Islam, and not what the media portrays it to be. (Especially with ISIS. Those people call themselves Muslim, but they are Muslim by name, not by the way they act) **

**Please don't hate me for this. Hopefully when I come back I will have up to chapter 15 written, so you would have a lot to read. **

**Salam. :( **


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